


Super Soldier Softness

by Trash_Baby



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), ((on a side note that tag should be trending)), Avenger Bucky Barnes, Avenger reader - Freeform, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Fluff, Just lots of fluff, Mutant Reader, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reader-Insert, and cute stuff, bucky fluff, but idk maybe there will be, but if I'm the type of person to hit my head with the tennis racket then so is the reader, i love bucky so much im gonna go and cry about him now, ngl I'm making this up as I go along so updates are gonna be sporadic af, oh yeah reader is an Avenger, reader is clumsy, sorry - Freeform, there's probs gonna be no sin, you can suffer with me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:00:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8180761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash_Baby/pseuds/Trash_Baby
Summary: I really fuckin love Bucky and he deserves all the cute fluffy shit in the world so this is gonna be a bunch of one-shot ideas merged together to somehow flow into a real story. Nice. (aka I have a load of ideas that I wanna write about so I'm gonna form a nice lil bond between the reader and Bucky to make them work)
 
(Title may be changed later on)





	

If you were being completely honest, you weren’t the biggest fan of exercise. With that being said, it often posed a question or two about your employment – if you hated exercise so much, why the hell were you an Avenger?

The job was physically strenuous, demanding constant training practice as well as requiring you to be generally fit, and that was outside of work hours – work hours meant missions, and missions meant being on constant alert and at the peak of your physical best to complete the mission to the best of your ability.

Despite all of this, you knew why you were an Avenger. Even though you spent countless hours in the training room getting muscle cramps and sweating your entire body weight, you knew it was worth it, because being an Avenger meant that you were a hero. Being an Avenger meant that you saved lives and made the world a better place. Being an Avenger was good.

Even so, during times like this, you question whether all of this damn exercise was really necessary.

You’ve been in the training room for almost an hour now, using the gym facilities that Tony had recently upgraded. Though you know you should be honing your hand to hand combat skills, you didn’t want to bother any of your teammates; besides, you’d much rather relax. Well, _try_ to relax – a challenging task to achieve when you’ve been running on a treadmill for the past twenty minutes.

With your earphones jammed in and the volume up at an almost deafening volume, it’s not surprising that you notice another person enter the training room until they’re a foot away and they’ve tapped you on the back.

A startled shriek escapes you, and you teleport across the room on instinct, though your body fails to catch up, still thinking you’re on the treadmill, and so you run several feet forward until you collide with the wall face first.

How graceful.

You land on the ground with a groan, the base of your spine flaring up with pain, and you struggle to stand up. Instead, you opt for rolling onto your side and applying tentative pressure to the throbbing point of contact, whining when the ache jumps up and down your spine. Feeling the vibrations of heavy footsteps against the floor coming towards you, you crack open your eyes enough to catch sight of a flash of silver before you clench your eyes shut again.

A hand makes contact with the bare skin of your upper arm, and you jolt a little, though this time you don’t teleport, instead staying in place as you turn your head and look up to see Bucky. His face is much closer than you anticipate, and you realize that he’s kneeling beside you, his flesh hand on your arm and his brows drawn together as he speaks.

What’s he saying?

Your own brow furrows as you try to make out what he’s saying; his lips are moving, but the only thing you can hear is the angelic tones of Beyoncé. Wait-

Tugging an earphone out, you blink a couple of times to catch the end of Bucky’s sentence. “-all.”

“What was that?”

His frown deepens slightly at your request, his eyes once again scanning your body and assessing your head in search of any damage before he repeated himself. “I said, are you alright there? That looked like a pretty painful fall.”

“Oh. Yeah, ‘m fine, you just made me jump, that’s all.”

He huffs, shaking his head as the beginnings of an amused smirk twist at his lips. “Well that was one hell of a jump.”

“Heh, yeah. Damn teleporting ability.” You push up from the floor slowly into a sitting position, air hissing passed clenched teeth when your back throbs at the movement, and Bucky stands to get out of your way. Frowning, you grumble to yourself, momentarily forgetting that Bucky would be able to hear. “Why am I like this, holy shit?”

“Like what?”

You look up at Bucky, blinking in shock at just how tall he was. He was usually tall compared to you anyway, but when you were sat on the floor staring up at him? Yeah, he was _tall_. You blink a second time when he sticks his hand out, and you study it for a moment in confusion before realizing that he was offering to help you up. Blushing, you grab his hand hesitantly, yelping when he begins to yank you up.

The sharp sound has him freezing, and he curses when he realizes that he had caused you pain. “Sorry . . .” He murmurs quietly, avoiding your gaze as he shifts to wrap an arm around you to better support you.

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Like what?”

“Huh?”

You stare blankly at him in complete and utter confusion, your mind whirring as you try to figure out what he meant. What did he mean, ‘like what’? What did that mean?

“Earlier,” He begins, eyebrow lifting slowly. “You said ‘why am I like this’. Like what?”

You feel your cheeks heat up as you look away, shrugging uncomfortably as you mumble quietly. “Just . . . Why am I clumsy? Why am I not aware of my surroundings?” You sneak a glance up at him, shrugging once more as you wrap your arms around your middle self-consciously.

Bucky smiles softly, his blue eyes lighting up, and the feeling of your insides turning to goo is not entirely unpleasant. “Sometimes being unaware is better than being all too aware. It must be nice to lose touch with reality once in a while. Well, except for when you get flashbacks from years of torture, it’s not exactly great to lose your focus for that.” He attempts to chuckle, though the sound is forced and harsh, and you wince at the way his eyes darken, his entire expression closing off as his shoulders slump.

The first inklings of panic have you scrambling to fill the silence, not wanting Bucky to slip into a negative mind-set – he’d had enough negativity and pain to last a lifetime three times over. Without much thought as to what you say, you splutter out, “Music is good!”

Way to go.

If you could have face palmed in that moment, you would have. Instead, you attempt to elaborate. “I mean, it’s good to slip out of reality, as in music can take you to good places. It’s what I do.”

Bucky’s eyes slip from your face to the earphone that dangled, one of the buds still in your ear, a soft melody still playing. “I can tell.”

Your grin is uncertain, though when Bucky’s lips tilt up into a small smile, you allow yourself to relax, your expression coming naturally. “I can show you. I-if you want, that is. You know, some music. Like, new stuff, that is – I know you had music back in your day and stuff, but y’know, you might like some stuff from this time. You don’t have to, it’s just-”

“Sure.”

“Really?” You ask, eyes wide.

His smile grows, and Bucky’s head dips in a nod of confirmation, strands of long hair slipping into his eyes. “I’d like that.”

“Great!” Realizing that you probably sound just a tad too enthusiastic, you clear your throat before trying again. “That-that’s good. I’ll, uh, see you up in my room in about half an hour?”

He nods once again, and you nod back, though the pair of you remain where you stand. Scrambling in place, you scurry out of the training room, throwing several glances over your shoulder to the brunette Super Soldier before you left, missing the grin that stretched across Bucky’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> please bear with me guys holy shit  
> i've been in this fandom for so frickin long but i've just never written anything for it so yeah 
> 
> it's probably gonna be some time before I get a comment or two but if anyone has an idea for a chapter (anything fluffy at all) then let me know and I'll probably include it (with a lil message of thanks at the top of the chapter {i can't remember what tf it's called, like the acknowledgment or some shit?? idk it's 00:08 rn kill me})
> 
> also - for the next chapter, feel free to list some of your favorite music artists to introduce to Bucky!


End file.
